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“And when you are ready, come back and burn this fucking place to the ground.”
I watched until they were out of sight, rubbing my raw neck, wondering why everyone except me seemed to know why I was here.
18
ANARIA
Three more days I was kept in that cage, three days of little food and even less water, until my mouth was as cracked as my lips. But I was used to being hungry. All I had to do was convince my aching stomach it didn’t hurt, and I was fine.
Which was easy enough to do when every day was filled with work, but sitting in the dark, with nothing but my thoughts…starvation gnawed at me like the rats that skittered through my cage every so often.
The ones I found staring at me whenever I woke.
The ones I knew would start chewing, the second I really fell asleep.
That was why the female had no fingers. Because she had to sleep sometime.
I curled my body into the tightest knot I could, and spent as much time as possible half in and half out of reality. The stench still got in, along with the worst of the screams, but on the third day, I still had my fingers and toes, which was an accomplishment.
My back was healed, but when I rucked the dirty gown up, the S still marked my stomach, white and slightly raised, a ghastly reminder that would make it impossible to ever forget what Solok had done.
Four days.
Tavion, the Seer, Solok…all of them said I had four days. Until my birthday. Until…whatever would happen next…happened. I had a bad feeling this all had to do with me being a sacrifice…but why? And for what?
Nothing made sense and the conclusions I did draw…I shoved them away, too horrible to consider.
Focusing on escape served me better than speculating about my future.
Which meant working on freeing the bracket from the bottom of the bedframe, trying to loosen the screws. What I’d do with the metal once I got it off, I didn’t know, but this gave me a purpose, no matter how slim. Maybe I could pry off the hideous collar.
Though even if I did…
If I did, everything down here was made of iron. The bars on the doors, the hinges, even the pot I pissed in were made out of that infernal metal. Which meant this prison was built to contain magic.
I worked my ravaged fingers beneath the bracket, far enough one of the nails popped out. Then the next, and the last.
I hefted it in my hand. Too blunt for a weapon, but…
I worked it beneath the collar, used it like a lever to pry off the band, but the sharp edge just cut into the side of my neck. I might get the collar off, but I’d take my head along with it. When the heavy tread of boots echoed down the corridor, I hid my tool, because I knew they were here for me.
Today was the fourth day. My birthday. My doom day.
So, I wasn’t in the least surprised when the guards stopped at my cage.
“Time to go.” A thin guard with a heavily scarred face unlocked my barred door, his gaze skimming over the upturned bed, the soiled mattress, me, huddled on the floor. “Solok’s ready for you.”
I shook when I climbed to my feet; the useless bracket clutched in one hand. I should have sharpened the ends on the stone, turned it into a weapon I could use.
Then another three guards joined them and I realized it wouldn’t have made a difference.
Whatever Solok planned, I’d never escape in this maze of cells and corridors.
Fighting six heavily armed soldiers would only waste what little energy I had left, so I bowed my head and meekly let them herd me down the corridor. There would be an opportunity for escape.
There always was.
“Where did the other High Fae bitch go?” One of them asked, his hand braced on the hilt of his sword, like I posed any sort of threat. “The one who’d been here forever?”
